Member-only story
Will Someone Please Invent a Very Long Grabber-Reacher For Toys Flung Off The Porch?
At this rate I’ll never need to buy a Stair Master.
Someone needs to invent a giant grappling hook claw thingy for parents to use when their kids throw things off the side of the porch.
“The PORCH?” you gasp, clutching imaginary pearls. “You’re letting your child play outside in this kind of weather? It’s December! It’s bleak midwinter, if Christina Rosetti, the church calendar and two thousand years of Christian tradition with a tenuous grasp on weather cycles can be trusted! Why isn’t your son occupied INDOORS with an age-appropriate, mentally stimulating activity that you have meticulously prepared for him in your limited and fragmentary spare time? Oh, that’s right. Because you bop around writing trivialities on the internet rather than BONDING with your BABY, you terrible excuse for a mother.”
My husband has occasionally hinted that I overthink things, imagine people hate me when they actually don’t, and cause myself needless anxiety. I don’t know where he gets that. (But I do stay up at night wondering about it.)
Put your minds at rest, merry ladies and gentlemen. Let nothing you dismay. I started writing this piece back in October, when the weather was balmy and bright, and outdoor play…
